


peeling out

by honeybeesandappletrees



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of), Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, POV Second Person, Plum Juice is Refined™, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, Steak has Had It™, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybeesandappletrees/pseuds/honeybeesandappletrees
Summary: it turns out you're a menace on the delivery bike.





	peeling out

“Oh~!”

Steak scoffs quietly. “You sound like a child, idiot. Calm down.”

“Absolutely not,” you say, prodding him in the side to get him to shut up. He catches your hand before you can make contact. His grip is gentle but you whine anyway, the sound close enough to real that alarm flashes across the hard-headed Food Soul’s face. It only takes him a few seconds to realize that you’re being dramatic, and his worry melts into irritation. He lets go of your wrist, his calloused fingertips brushing against your skin, and turns away with a sour expression. You can’t quite catch what he mutters, but you assume it isn’t particularly favorable.

Still, even Steak’s grumpiness is easily shrugged off; you’re bouncing on your toes rapidly, waiting for the bike to stop near you. “Steak, look! It’s a pretty nice bike!”

The redhead shoves one of his swords into the ground – you really need to get him to stop doing that, the paths leading to the restaurants are starting to look like the moon’s surface, they’re so cratered with holes – and grabs the handlebars of the delivery bike as it grinds to halt in front of you. You wave to the delivery person in thanks. He doesn’t stick around for long after you pay him, likely due to the glower Steak is directing towards him. 

You circle the bike as Steak lowers the kickstand. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. 

“You look deranged,” Steak tells you flatly. You shift on your feet as he steps back towards his sword, pulling it up with an easy ripple of muscle that never fails to impress you. 

“You look like an old man.” You point towards his furrowed brow and mimic it, scrunching your face up tight. 

“What did you fucking s-” Steak’s cut off by the creak of the restaurant door.

“Attendant, don’t tease.” You wilt, just slightly, as Plum Juice steps out of the restaurant, one brow raised in quiet reprimand. He’s been adamant about manners since the moment you summoned him, your signature uncertain and messy as you sealed your first contract with a Food Soul. You rarely meet his standards, but you do try, knowing that it pleases him and that you perhaps sometimes need to be curbed.

Steak snorts, knowing that you’ll be less willing to snipe at him with Plum present. “They would have to say something clever for it to be teasing.”

Plum turns his gaze towards the knight; you take the chance to stick your tongue out in Steak’s direction. Steak’s face drops into a thunderous scowl.

“Attendant,” Plum says, not even turning to look at you. “Please desist.”

Steak’s scowl drops into a smug little smirk as you wilt again.

“Sorry, Plum.”

The white-haired Food Soul hums, his skepticism thrumming along your bond. You struggle to keep the repentant smile on your face. Plum sighs. “Is the delivery vehicle in working order?”

“Dunno yet,” you say, perking back up and reaching for the handlebars to swing yourself into the seat of bike.

“Oi, absolutely not, your clumsy ass is not getting on that bike,” Steak says, already moving towards you. “You’ll hurt yourself.” You ignore him and swing your leg over. It’s more like clambering, your movements inelegant. Steak clicks his tongue and reaches out for you with one large hand. You tighten your grip on the handlebar, knowing that he will absolutely pull you off if you don’t dismount. 

“Let them have their fun,” Peking Duck calls from the doorway, framed by the soft floral garlands that you’ve recently added to the entrance. There’s a delighted shine in his golden eyes, and you suspect he absolutely knows how exaggerated your clumsy movements on the bike have been. “It is not every day that a restaurant is able to expand to deliveries in several kingdoms. Let them at least test the bike while we are here, so we know they won’t get hurt.”

Peking’s smile has a mischievous tilt to it, but Plum agrees. Steak grumbles for a moment, his hand still on your shoulder. You turn to him with a jutting lower lip.

“Stop that.” He gives you a little push before letting go of you. You beam. “Be careful, at least,” he says gruffly.

“Sure,” you chirp.

Steak rolls his eyes. He stays close as you start the bike up. The engine rumbles to life underneath you, louder than you expected. Steak looks even less pleased that before. His scowl has deepened and both swords are thrust into the ground, likely so he’ll be able to catch up with you faster. 

You rev the engine twice, just to listen to it purr. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tight clench of Steak’s fists. “Hey,” you say, leaning back, your voice softer now. The knight looks at you with the same scowl as before, but it slips just enough. Sometimes you forget how deeply his urge to protect goes. Steak wants to shield you from everything, and you know it frustrates him that he cannot. Brash or not, the Food Soul cares. It’s too easy for you to forget that at times.

“You’re here to take care of me, so I know that I’ll be okay.”

He grumbles again, looking away. When he turns, the angle is just right for you to see the slight pink flush working its way across his cheeks. “You’d better be, idiot.”

“Softy,” you sing-song.

Steak nudges the kickstand up harder than he needs to. The pressure almost makes you stumble, bike caught between your legs, but he’s already got you steadied. He lets go of you just as quickly as he caught you. “Don’t go far,” he warns. Still, he moves back to give you room.

You huff, hands tightening on the handlebar. “I’m not a child.” You wave at Plum Juice, who has moved back to stand by Peking. Plum raises a hand in return; Peking inclines his head with a genial smile. That spark of mischief is still in his golden eyes.

The engine roars under your hands as you rev it. “Let’s see how fast this can go!” you cheer.

“What-” Steak barks, but you’ve already rotated the twist throttle and pulled your feet off the ground. He doesn’t manage to react in time to keep you from going anywhere. You throw him a grin as the bike takes off.

You shift into first with a fast press of your left foot. Another twist of the throttle and you’re moving fast enough that you can feel the air streaming across your face. You think you can hear Peking chuckling as you whip by the restaurant. You’re well into second by then, and you are practically purring along with the engine.

You lean to your right to see how responsive the bike is; the counter steer works beautifully, the bike sliding into a gentle turn. You click up another gear. Distantly, you’re aware that Steak is yelling. It’s almost impressive that he’s loud enough to be heard over the growl of the engine and the whistle of the wind.

The road in front of your restaurant is long and straight until a slightly distant cross road. It’s everything you don’t want at this moment. “I’m going a bit further,” you yell to your Food Souls – from the cursing, Steak absolutely hears you – and you gun it for a decent distance before practically throwing yourself into a turn. The adrenaline is starting to kick through you, breath caught tight in your chest as you lean close enough to the ground that you have to work every muscle in your core to keep the bike from going fully over. The stretch and pull of your muscles is glorious in that way that edges right on pain; after a moment, it’s too much and you pull up.

You go for a few more minutes (the part of you not concentrating can hear that Steak is still losing his mind, even though it should be quite obvious at this point that you’re a skilled rider). You use the straightaways to pick up speed before turning, each one sharper than the last and requiring you to lean closer and closer to the ground. Still, you know it can’t last. The bike, though it rumbles nicely underneath you, isn’t meant for how much you’re pushing it. The top speeds barely make your adrenaline spike further, and you resign yourself to ending your ride as you come up on the sign marking the cross road.

Part of you knows that you’re about to be meaner than usual with your next move, but the galloping of your heart feels more important. You tighten your hands and whoop, leaning forward and hitting the throttle hard. The jerk of the bike is sharper than you expected (delivery bike, you remind yourself, god, you hope you aren’t destroying it) but you feel the rear tire break traction. The drift works perfectly. You use it to angle yourself back towards your restaurant, pushing up into a higher speed once you’ve completed the turn. 

You come up on the restaurant fast, the bike still thrumming beneath you. You give it one last push - the engine whines just a bit - and then lean forward and hit the front brakes. It’s a careful and controlled maneuver. You feel the rear tire rising and you rise with it. It feels like flying in the best of ways, your heart soaring as the adrenaline pumps through you. Your front tire stays down, sliding along the road until you come to a full stop. The rear wheel drops with a thud and you move fast to brace yourself, a wild smile on your lips.

Once your feet are on the ground, you glance up at your Food Souls with a smile. Steak is gaping at you, his fingers twitching. Plum Juice isn’t much better, but he somehow makes even aghast shock look refined. Mostly, you’re surprised to see that even Peking looks a bit shaken, but then there’s that little smile rising like the sun across his lips, so fast that you think perhaps you imagined his surprise.

Knowing you don’t have long, you flash them an even bigger smile and throw up a peace sign.

“Bike works great!” you chirp, swinging off of it with a small grimace as your muscles pull. “Can’t wait to really start deliveries!”

Steak makes a choked off noise.

“Ah, Attendant,” Plum says cautiously.

“Hmm?

“Perhaps it would be best…if we took care of the deliveries.”

“Oh? How come?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Peking raising his arm to cover his smirk with one of his long, draping sleeves. You bite down on your laugh.

“Well,” Plum says, glancing to the other Food Souls for assistance. When it doesn’t come, he shifts his gaze back to you. “It’s usually best if you’re at the restaurant; the customers love you so much.”

“Huh,” you say, starting into the restaurant. Peking lets you brush past him. “Well, I’ll just do the deliveries a few times a week, then, I guess.”

A hand winds around your bicep and pulls you back. “Absolutely not,” Steak grits. He spins you to face him. “You are not getting on that contraption again while I’m around.”

You blink. “Okay.”

“There’s no way in hell you can – wait, what?”

You reach up and pat him on the cheek. “Okay.”

Steak’s hands fall away from you. The scrunch of his brow is actually cute.

“Okay,” he repeats.

“Okay,” you say amiably. The sound is soft and low, but Peking is absolutely chuckling behind you. When you flick your gaze back towards him, he inclines his head and disappears into the restaurant. As you return your attention to Steak, you see movement from the corner of your eye that indicates Plum has followed him.

Steak eyes you warily. You blink at him and offer up a soft, fond smile. “Dumbass,” he grumbles, but his scowl is softening. 

You pat his cheek once more. “Same to you,” you say cheerfully. “I think I’m going to go exploring, we need a few restocks. Wanna come?”

“…Fine. Someone has to make sure you don’t get killed.” 

You hum in agreement and turn to head back into the restaurant once more. Steak falls into step beside you.

You wave to some of your regular customers as you enter before turning down one of the private hallways. Steak keeps pace by your side, pulling you to the side as one of your servers goes running past and almost knocks you over. “Slow down, dammit,” he calls after them. You laugh.

Another turn takes you down a quieter hallway. 

“Hey Steak?”

“What.”

You brush the back of your hand against his with a smile. “I’m glad you’re around to keep me safe.”

“A-Attendant!” For a second, you think he’s going to say more, but he subsides into a quiet muttering that you can’t quite make out. He looks away from you, cheeks flushed, and you revel in his rare softness. 

You let the moment linger for a few breaths more and then, making sure he isn’t looking, you slip the delivery bike’s spare key into your pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> i 100% almost called this 2fast 2furious but chickened out. as a result, any other title feels wrong for me. this is definitely brought to you by a rewatch of tokyo drift. the stunts mentioned are real but exaggerated for fiction purposes lol. this also got away from me idk how i turned this dumb idea into something this long.
> 
> this MA is def a bit of a troll and i'm living for it
> 
> no beta we die like men is 1000% my fav tag and will likely be on every single work of mine. ever.
> 
> tumblr is alandofhoneyedfruits


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